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It was a touchy subject. His jaw had tensed but his words were light. I decided I would be stupid to kill the mood between us. “I don’t like him,” I said, which was the truth.
“Good. You shouldn’t.” He tapped my knee. “Do you like me?”
“Yes.” Maybe more than I should. “Do you like me?” It wasn’t a needy question. I knew he couldn’t necessarily have any opinion of me as a person because we didn’t really know each other. I just meant was he enjoying our flirtation, our time together.
But he gave me a look I didn’t understand. At once both intense and searching. Though he just said, “Sure,” and shrugged. Like it didn’t matter to him.
I wasn’t offended. I was a little disappointed because I wanted him to remember me, later on. When I was gone and he was living his life. I wanted to be a girl in his sea of one-night stands that he actually could point to and say he had fun and remembered details. And here he had called my sister vain. I was guilty of the same flaw.
So I didn’t bother to pursue it or dig deeper. That’s not why I was there. I took a sip of my beer.
“Let’s go in my bedroom and I’ll show you how much I like you.” Cain took my chin and tilted my head so I was facing him again. “Because I do really, really like you, Sophie. So much so it’s a little fucking unnerving.”
His words warmed me from the inside out. It didn’t feel like a line. Even if it was, I was willing to believe it anyway because it felt good. For once to have a hot guy saying he was into me. “You don’t seem like the type to scare easily,” I whispered.
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Anger is more my thing than fear.”
“Do I make you angry?”
“Not at all.” He stood up and I saw that he was hard again.
That seemed amazing in its own right. I gestured to his erection. “Did I make you do that?”
“Yep.”
“How did I do that? So I can do it again if necessary.”
“Just be you. It’s been turning me on since the minute you first opened your mouth.”
If there was one thing I knew how to do it was to be me.
“I’m going to go get in your bed now,” I told him.
—
Sophie, with her little fierce expression, did things to me. I was hard again faster than I would have thought possible and when she stood up quickly, knocking into me, I wanted to slam her into the nearest wall and drive my cock up into her.
That had been a hot blow job. Because she was serious, so dedicated, so determined to learn. For a split second I wondered what Sophie would be like after months of sexual exploration. My dick almost exploded at the thought. I dismissed it immediately because it was going to destroy me but also because that wouldn’t be my right. The task of furthering her education would belong to some other guy. A Harvard guy. Whose brains were bigger than his dick.
It made me angry. It reminded me of why I wasn’t worthy of her and why I wasn’t worthy to be Camp’s father. Because I simmered with rage, and I wanted whiskey in the worst way to make that ache go away.
Sex would distract me though. It always did. At least for a few minutes.
This time though I followed Sophie down my hallway and watched the curve of her heart-shaped ass sway as she entered my bedroom. At least I had changed the sheets. Because I was fucking classy. The thought amused me. It cooled my anger.
I climbed on the bed beside Sophie and I said, “Ride me.” It would force me to stay in control. I wouldn’t be able to pound into her, taking her body hard, like I could thrust away all the shit in my life. I didn’t want to do that to Sophie. I didn’t want to use her any more than the normal way of using someone for sex.
“Okay.” She tentatively moved over me. “How do I get it in?”
“Lift your hips and I’ll do it.” I liked this view. But she was too much in shadow. The night before I’d allowed her moonlight. Now I wanted to see everything. I reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp.
She squinted. “That’s bright.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I wanted to see every inch of her body. And almost more important, I wanted to see the expressions that crossed her face. Witness the passion I could stoke in her. I lightly tapped her ass. “Quit complaining.”
Sophie frowned as she lifted herself up. “I wasn’t—
But then I thrust into her and she cut off midsentence.
